That One

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She sits.

Just sits.

And watches me.

Not everyone,

just me.

I feel her eyes burning into my soul.

Her deep brown eyes, dark and so cold.

She just sits and watches.

For days upon days.

I don't know why it's just me.

All I know is that it is just me.

She sits in that chair.

Same one every day.

The chair that's not there.

At least so they say.

No one can see it.

But I know it's there.

Away from the lights,

away from their stares.

I wish I could sit there and never be seen.

Just like that girl there, watching over me.

That is why she sits.

To fill me with envy.

For she may hide for ever and watch.

I must forever and ever be watched.





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